Part 52 (1/2)
The private tutor threw himself back in his seat in the study, vacated by the doctor, while Dexter had his lessons, placed his hands behind his head, and, after wrinkling his forehead in lines from his brow to right on the top, where the hair began, he stared hard at his pupil.
”I say again, sir, what am I to tell the doctor!”
”I don't know,” said Dexter dolefully. Then, plucking up a little spirit: ”I wrote out all my history questions, and did the parsing with a little help from Miss Grayson, and I did the sum you set me all by myself.”
”Yes; but the Algebra, the Cla.s.sics, and the Euclid! Where are they?”
”There they are,” said Dexter, pointing dismally to some books on the table.
”Yes, sir, there they are--on that table, when they ought to be in your head.”
”But they won't go in my head, sir,” cried Dexter desperately.
”Nonsense, sir! you will not let them, and I warn you plainly, that if we do not make better progress, I shall tell the doctor that I will not continue to take his payment for nothing.”
”No; I say; don't do that,” said Dexter piteously. ”He wouldn't like it.”
”I cannot help that, sir. I have my duty to perform. Anybody can do those childish history and grammatical questions; it is the cla.s.sical and mathematical lessons in which I wish you to excel. Now, once more.
No, no, you must not refer to the book. 'In any right-angled triangle, the square of the side--' Now, go on.”
Dexter took up a slate and pencil, wrinkled up his forehead as nearly like the tutor's as he could, and slowly drew a triangle.
”Very good,” said Mr Limpney. ”Now, go on.”
Dexter stared at his sketch, then helplessly at his instructor.
”I ought to write _ABC_ here, oughtn't I, sir?”
”Yes, of course. Go on.”
Dexter hesitated, and then put a letter at each corner.
”Well, have it that way if you like,” said Mr Limpney.
”I don't like it that way, sir,” said Dexter. ”I'll put it your way.”
”No, no. Go on your way.”
”But I haven't got any way, sir,” said Dexter desperately.
”Nonsense, nonsense! Go on.”
”Please, sir, I can't. I've tried and tried over and over again, but the angles all get mixed up with the sides, and it is all such a muddle.
I shall never learn Euclid. Is it any use?”
”Is it any use!” cried the tutor scornfully. ”Look at me, sir. Has it been any use to me!”
Dexter looked at the face before him, and then right up the forehead, and wondered whether learning Euclid had made all the hair come off the top of his head.
”Well, go on.”